


Extracurricular

by circa1927



Series: The Pickle Chronicles [3]
Category: Actor RPF, Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Desk Sex, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Naughty, Professors, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2389970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circa1927/pseuds/circa1927
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grace has the hots for her professor, but he's only ever been completely professional.  One late night and all bets are off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extracurricular

                “Grace, would you like anything?” A deep, rich voice broke Grace from her reverie. She looked up from her desk, her eyes blinking into focus.

“I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard, shaking off the cobwebs in her mind. She glanced at the clock. It was nearing 10pm.

“Are you alright?” He asked. He stood at the doorway, leaning against the jamb. His dark hair was slightly mussed, and he was wearing a dark, tweed overcoat with the collar turned up.

“I’m fine. I just was off in my own world.” She forced a smile, and stood up from behind her desk. She’d been working late for the past week, trying to get all the grading and lecture plans completed. It was nearing finals, and so things were hectic and a bit disorganized.

“I can see that. I’m going to pop over and get something to eat. Would you like anything?” He asked, his light blue eyes searching hers. Grace smiled and shook her head.

“No, thank you.”

“Are you almost finished?” He nodded toward the stack of untouched papers on her desk.

“Um, not quite. I’ll be here for awhile longer. I’m sorry.” She shook her head, running a hand through her long, straight, reddish auburn hair. She hated feeling this way. And it was the worst possible time to lose her mind. Things at work were crazy. Her studies were intensifying and now, she’d just gotten dumped via text message. She hated that Dr. Cumberbatch had caught her in a daze. She didn’t want him to think she was unprofessional. Especially since she’d had to work really hard to become his intern and assistant. There had practically been a waiting list to work with Dr. Cum-in-my-pants, or Dr. Cum-on-my-snatch, as many crude undergrads liked to call him. But Grace had a real reason for wanting to work closely with him. And it didn’t have anything to do with how he looked. She tried to stay away from all that silliness and gossip. Perhaps it had to do to the fact that she was older than most of the students. Not a lot older, but old enough that giggling over an attractive professor wasn’t how she chose to spend most of her time.

It was a well known fact that Benedict Cumberbatch was the best looking professor on campus. It was also well known that his classes were in high demand, and he was very well respected among his colleagues. He was nothing but professional with his students and it was a well known, if not disappointing to many, fact that he kept his personal life extremely private. On more than one occasion, there had been stories of co-eds showing up at his office door, scantily clad. He’d always turned them away. Still, he was friendly, professional and an extremely well connected professor, with a PhD in criticism, culture and contemporary literature from Cambridge.   His internships and teacher assistant spots were always highly sought after. Usually for the wrong reasons, but sometimes, like Grace’s case, for the right reasons.

Grace wanted to study all the greats. She lived and breathed the written word, and working along side Dr. Cumberbatch had been a dream come true. His insight, his experience, it made centuries old texts seem new and exciting. When she’d received the call that she was being accepted as not only his intern, but as a TA, she’d cried. He was working on a very highly publicized and exciting project concerning a newly found series of journals by James Joyce, and it was the opportunity of a life time.

That had been two months ago. Since then, Grace’s days had been filled to the brim. She juggled her own graduate classes, topped with late nights spent at the university, helping to grade undergraduate papers, and organize things for lessons. She also spent time with Dr. Cumberbatch in his office, and his studio off campus, where she and two other interns were working on the Joyce project. It was an exciting time, but hadn’t been quite as exciting for her boyfriend, Todd. Which was why he’d just unceremoniously dumped her after her seventh night in a row of having to call him off.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve been working incredibly hard, Grace.” Dr. Cumberbatch tilted his head slightly, and paused. Grace didn’t know what to say. He was a very kind man, and even quite funny at times, but he was very diligent at keeping things professional and impersonal.

“T-thank you. I promise they’ll be done by tonight.” She nodded and ran her hands down her hips, hoping he didn’t think she was slacking. She was well aware there were dozens of other people that could easily take her place, and do this job without letting personal stuff get in the way.

Dr. Cumberbatch nodded and then turned to leave. He disappeared from the doorway, and Grace let out a slow breath that she didn’t know she’d been holding. She always felt that way around him. A bit tense, a bit fluttery. It was silly really. She admired and looked up to him for so many reasons. And he wasn’t bad to look at either. Tall and sturdy with dark wavy hair, those killer cheekbones and those piercing blue eyes. Sometimes he wore thick, black framed glasses, and Grace swore he could be right out of an academic’s wet dream.

As a professor, he was a bit of a novelty and a prodigy. He was still rather young. Grace had read a few articles on him, after drinking too many glasses of wine one night, and staying up late googling his name. He had traveled a lot, including a stint teaching at a Buddhist monastery, and had written three best selling books on the critique and culture of literature, which was still rather unheard of—such a successful academic text becoming so popular. Despite all this, he was humble, and easy to work for. Though Grace knew a lot of was expected of her, most of the stress she had all came from her own internal need to succeed and be helpful.

She walked back over to her desk, and sat down again. Her phone sat, blinking on the desk top, alerting her to a new message. She knew it was from Todd, and she didn’t want to see it. He’d already said that he’d gathered his things and was leaving the flat. Grace had been so busy, she hadn’t even noticed he’d slowly been removing himself from her life.

“Grace?” That rich, lovely voice interrupted her thoughts for the second time. She jumped slightly, looking up. Dr. Cumberbatch stuck his head back through the door, looking uncertain.

“Doctor?” She said softly.

“I’m going to go back to the studio after this. I want to look at the texts a bit, and do some research. Would you like to join me? I don’t know how I feel about you being here so late all by yourself.” He took a step into the door way again and waited. Grace swallowed hard, and looked around. It was true. A campus late at night could be a scary place for a woman. Usually, the other interns were around and they all walked together when they left. Tonight, Grace was the only one left. Everyone else was cramming for finals, or in an adderall induced stupor tying to finish up countless papers.

“Yes, sure.” She nodded, standing back up. “Can I just…” She started patting around the table, picking up stacks of papers, and trying to sort through the mess. Benedict stood still, watching her. She kept moving, shuffling things in a hurried fashion.

“Grace.” He said her name slowly, carefully. She stopped moving and looked up, her large, gray green eyes wide and unsure.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re acting a bit…frantic.” He said gently, then pulled a tiny, comforting smile at the side of his mouth. She pressed her lips together, her mind buzzing. Her shoulders slumped, and she felt the weight of the past few weeks fall onto her.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I am a bit frantic. It’s just…” She felt a wall of tears rush forward, and she tried her best to hold them in. It was completely unprofessional, and she felt embarrassed at the emotion.

“It’s okay, darling.” His voice was gentle and understanding. “Let’s get out of here, yeah? I think you need a break. Perhaps a drink?” He tilted his head toward the door. Grace looked up, surprised, her vision blurred slightly by the tears. She nodded quickly.

“Yes, please.” She swallowed. A drink sounded wonderful. A strong, cold, lovely drink.

“Grab your things, let’s go.” He reached over and took her coat off the hook, and opened it up for her. Grace rushed forward, brushing away her tears, and hoping her makeup wasn’t running down her face. She gave him a wobbly smile and then turned her back to him and pushed both arms through her coat.

 

 

The walk to the pub was brisk and only took a few minutes. It was nearly thanksgiving, and it felt as if winter was in full effect. The wind outside was swirling, and had a cold, bonechilling bite to it. Grace walked quickly and silently next to Benedict, matching as best she could his wide, long strides. He held the door open for her to Delli’s, and she rushed inside. They settled quickly into a back corner in a booth. She’d never been in this pub before, though she’d passed by it nearly every day. It was about half way between the college and Dr. Cumberbatch’s studio.

It wasn’t a very popular pub, as most of the college kids when to Tado’s around the corner. Tado’s was much louder, bigger and well known for it’s cheap mixed drinks on the weekends. Delli’s was more of a local spot, and that night, it was nearly deserted.

Grace slipped out of her coat and into the booth across from Benedict. He took off his jacket, revealing a white dress shirt, dark tie, and a rather cozy, warm looking wool cardigan. He sat down, running a hand through his dark, windblown hair. She held her breath for a moment. In this dim light, in this rather normal little pub, he seemed much more human, much more ordinary than ever before. He looked like one of the boys she could have met in class. Except, he wasn’t a boy. Not at all. His devastating cheekbones, angular face and dark, expressive eye brows made it clear that he wasn’t a boy.

“I’m sorry about the tears back there. That’s not…me at all.” She said quickly, brushing her long hair over to one side. Benedict nodded and gave her another small smile.

“No, it’s not you. Is it anything you’d like to talk about?” He rubbed his hands together, warming up from the brisk walk over. Grace pressed her lips together, wondering how personal she should be. She wasn’t sure yet if he was asking to be polite, or really wanted to know. She looked around, remembering that they were in a pub, and not in an office. That had been his suggestion, not hers. And so she went ahead, and told him the truth.

“My boyfriend, Todd, broke up with me. I know it’s silly. It just surprised me, and he did it over text message, which was…harsh.” She sighed and sat back. Benedict raised an eyebrow, his mouth opening slightly. Grace focused in on his full, lovely lips for a second, and then looked away.

“I’m sorry to hear that. What a wanker.” His light eyes widened. Grace look up, surprised, and barely contained a laugh. She’d never heard him say anything like that.

“Sorry. Slipped out.” Dr. Cumberbatch said with a smack of his lips. Grace laughed sincerely then, her slender hand going to her mouth.

“It’s true. He is. But I’m sorry I let it effect my work. That was…unprofessional.” She shook her head. Just as Dr. Cumberbatch was about to respond, a waiter came over, asking them what they’d like to drink. Grace ordered wine, and Benedict order a vodka tonic.

“Grace, stop apologizing. It’s alright. You weren’t unprofessional, but I was worried. I do understand that there is life outside of books and academia. Believe me.” He pressed his hands together. He had big expressive hands, with long, strong looking fingers. Grace caught herself staring and looked away.

“I just didn’t want you to be disappointed.” She looked up, just as the waiter came back with their drinks. Benedict took his glass and raised it up, tapping it gently against Grace’s.

“Not disappointed. You’re the best I’ve got. Don’t feel bad for having an off day. God knows I’ve felt that way recently as well.” He took a drink of the clear liquid, and Grace watched the muscles in his neck move as he swallowed. She shifted and took a sip of her wine. Smokey, dark, and barely sweet.

“You’ve been having some issues? I wouldn’t have noticed. You’re very…pulled together.” She asked softly, tilting her head. This conversation was the most personal she’d ever been with him. She was pretty sure it was the most personal he’d ever been with anyone. It was surprising, and she felt a rush of adrenaline.

“Ah, an old girlfriend wants to get back together.” He shrugged and then paused. “Should I be telling you this? Perhaps I’ve gone a bit batty.” He chuckled and shook his head.

“No, not batty at all.” She shook her head. “It’s good to know you’re human.” She said, the words slipping out. Benedict looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers. His mouth tilted.

“Human?”

“I just mean…” She stammered, wishing she could keep her mouth shut. “I just mean, you’re very professional and you keep things that way.” She nodded quickly. Benedict nodded, looking as if he understood.

“I know how I come off, Grace.” He said gently. She took a big gulp of her wine.

“Oh.”

“It’s important to keep that wall there. I’m aware that I’m younger than most of the faculty. I’m also aware of some of the nicknames I’ve been given.” He raised an eyebrow at her. Grace blushed furiously, and shook her head.

“No, well, I…I’ve never…I don’t use them, Dr. Cumberbatch. I don’t join in with the other undergrads.” She said quickly, her words fumbling all over each other. He chuckled good naturedly.

“It’s fine, Grace. And please, you can relax. And call me Benedict. Or Ben.” He sighed. Grace nodded, her wide eyes nearly bulging from her head.

“Okay, Dr. Cumberbatch.” She said softly, and then they both laughed.

They spent the next forty five minutes drinking two more drinks each, and discussing everything from the James Joyce project, to the terrible food over at the campus eateries. Grace told him a bit more about Todd, and Benedict told her about his ex who was furiously trying to get him back after she’d been caught cheating.   She found it surprisingly easy to talk to him once they got started, and she didn’t think it had to do completely with all the wine.   He really was funny and articulate, and very self deprecating. It made him all the more attractive, which made her already sleep deprived, wine soaked, just-dumped mind even more fuzzy.

“So you know what the undergrads say about you?” She asked, leaning back against the booth seat. Benedict smiled and shook his head, and she swore he was blushing.

“I’ve heard rumors.” He looked up at her. He had taken off his cardigan, and loosened his tie at his neck, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She’d never seen him look so casual, and unassuming. At work, it was always a tie and a jacket.

“You’re very intriguing to them.” She smiled. The wine was making her very relaxed, and her words were flowing quickly without a barrier.

“Am I?” He grinned, and she felt it shoot straight to her stomach.

“Of course. You’re successful, intelligent, attractive, and you keep entirely to yourself. What’s not to be intrigued by that?” She pushed her hair from her face, slipping it behind her ear. She sat up, pulling her hands into the long sleeves of her nubby cable knit sweater. If she’d known she would be sitting across from Dr. Cumberbatch, drinking and swapping stories, she would have worn something a bit nicer than an old oversized sweater and leggings.

“Ah, but the real question, Grace…” His eyes glinted in the darkened light. “Is if you think I’m intriguing.” He said this carefully, and with a bit of humor in his voice. She wasn’t sure if he was serious or how to respond.

“Well…” She stammered. “Of course I do. You’re Dr. Cumberbatch. You’re brilliant.” She said quickly. He nodded and sat back in the seat, looking somewhat disappointed. She frowned, not sure if she’d said something wrong. Perhaps she’d gone over the line.

“I just meant…you’re lovely. Everyone thinks you’re a phenomenal teacher and you—“

“Thank you, Grace.” He cut her off gently. “Really, I wasn’t fishing for compliments.” He smiled softly. She sat still, watching him for a minute, not sure what else to say. Her mind was clear, if not a bit sluggish from the wine, but she wasn’t totally understanding where their conversation was going.

“I think I’ve had enough wine. It’s making me sloppy.” She said with a laugh. Benedict smiled and nodded and then raised a hand to the waiter, who promptly brought over their check. Grace moved to grab her wallet, and Benedict shook his head.

“No, please.” He said simply to her, handing his card to the waiter before Grace could get a word in otherwise. She sat dumbly for a moment, surprised.

“Thank you.” She nodded.

“You’re welcome.” He said simply.

“Do you still need to go back to your studio? And get some work done?” She asked. Benedict nodded.

“Yes.”

“Would you like some company still? I’m not nearly as drunk as I may sound.” She smiled. Benedict laughed, and then shook his head one time.

“I’d love some company.”

 

 

They went back out into the cold night air, and Grace shivered against the wind.

“Do you want to walk? Or take a cab? If you’re too cold we can take a cab.” Benedict asked, looking down at Grace. He towered over her, his shoulders wide and slightly hunched against the weather.

“We can walk. Let’s just move fast.” She said. He nodded, and held out and arm to her, which she took. They hurried along, heads down against the wind, quiet again until they made it to the small one story flat which Benedict kept as his studio. It was attached to a larger house, which Grace had heard he lived in, but hadn’t never quite found out amongst all the other rumors.

Benedict opened the door for her, letting her into the small but open space. The flat was more of a one room work space. The ceilings were tall and wide, and two of the four walls were lined with bookshelves. To the right, there was a series of desks, and then a small sitting area. To the left, there was an old fireplace, and built in cabinets which held a lot of research. He kept the space neat and tidy.

Grace shivered as she walked in, slipping out of her coat and hanging it in the closet. She’d been here countless times before, but almost always with other grad students or interns.

“I’ll get the fire going.” Benedict said easily, slipping by her. She went over to the desks and turned the computers on. It was what she always did when she arrived. Turned on the computers, started a pot of coffee, cleaned up a bit if need be. It was a little different being there at night, and only with Dr. Cumberbatch. It was thrilling, and exciting.

“What are you working on?” She asked, leaning against the desk as she watched him stoke the fire. It only took him a few minutes before he got a good fire going, and the small room started to heat up.

“Going over a few documents and some inquiries from museum curators.” He stood up straight, and again, Grace was reminded of the physical grace and strength of him. He may have been an academic, but he took good care of himself. He didn’t have the slouchy posture or little beer paunch that most of the other professors did. Dr. Cumberbatch was fit, and agile, and rather imposing in a masculine, articulate way. He didn’t ooze testosterone like some men. He had completely control over it.

“I see. Well, let me know what I can do. I might start working on the papers that students have e-mailed.” She said, sitting down at one of the computers. Benedict watched her for a moment, his eyes tracking her movements. He nodded and then sat down at the computer next to her. They worked in silence for a few minutes, and though Grace could still feel the soft buzz from the wine, she was more in tuned to Dr. Cumberbatch’s presence than ever before.

Just as she was sure she was going to accidentally fail a bunch of undergrads because she could barely focus on a sentence, Grace felt and heard her phone vibrate and beep. She grabbed her purse, noticing that Dr. Cumberbatch looked up momentarily from his work.

“Sorry.” She whispered, swiping her phone on. There were multiple missed texts from Todd, and a missed phone call.

_You slut. My friend saw you Delli’s with some tosser. Two minutes after I’ve dumped you and you’re already fucking about?_

Grace stared at the text, feeling her blood start to boil. Todd had always been like that. Jealous, irrational, impulsive. It didn’t matter that he dumped her, it was still somehow all her fault.

 _Don’t text or call me anymore, Todd. We’re through._ She texted back quickly and held her breath. A new text from him popped up a few seconds later.

_Good, you daft cow. You were rubbish in bed and a complete bore. Have a good life._

She couldn’t help but gasp softly, feeling his words bite at her. Benedict looked up again from his computer, his brow furrowed.

“Grace?”

“I’m sorry.” She shook her head and clenched her hands to keep from crying.

“What is it?”

“Todd. What an idiot.” She raised her phone up and showed it to Benedict, unable to read the words out loud. Benedict read quickly, and then his eyes went from confused and worried to stony cold in a matter of seconds. His jaw set, he leaned forward, placing his hands on her forearms.

“Grace, don’t take that to heart, yeah? What a bloody idiot he is.” He shook his head and gently ran his hands up and down her arms. Grace felt the tears blur her vision, and then fall in big, terrible drops down her face. She felt like an idiot.

“Why would you say that to someone? Oh god, I really must be terrible.” She shook her head and brushed away her tears. Benedict reached over to the desk, and grabbed her a little box of tissues.

“Stop, stop that now.” He said, gently but firmly. “Grace, you’re sweet and smart and absolutely stunning. You could have anyone you’d like. Don’t waste time with that prick. He’s trying to get under your skin.” Benedict leaned close, his face near hers. His eyes were gentle and comforting, and Grace couldn’t help but focus in on those lush, lovely lips. If she was going to be honest, she’d thought many times about what it must have felt like to be kissed by him. Whenever the other women would gush over him, she’d just shake her head and laugh, but truly, she’d wondered as well.

“You think I’m stunning?” She said softly, raising her eyes to meet his magnificent, ice blue ones. He faltered, but only slightly, as if remembering their situation but then not truly caring anymore.

“Yes.” He said, his voice low and certain. Grace felt her heart beat a bit faster.

“No ones ever told me I’m stunning before.” She whispered. She’d been called pretty, and even beautiful, with her long, russet red hair, and wide blue green eyes. But never stunning. And never by Benedict Cumberbatch.

“Well it’s a shame, because you are.” His eyes moved, searching her face. Grace felt a surge from inside her, and then without thinking, she leaned forward and kissed him. It took them both by surprise, and when Benedict didn’t respond, she pulled back quickly.

Grace lifted her hands to her lips, feeling heat move up from her chest, to her neck, to her cheeks.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Dr. Cumberbatch. That was…I was…” She stammered. Oh god, had she just kissed her boss? Her professor?!   He was looking at her with those intense eyes, and Grace wasn’t sure if he was going to yell at her and tell her to leave or just walk out of the room himself. She moved in the chair, about to stand up, too mortified to stay there any longer. Just as she was about to get up, Benedict grabbed her hand and pulled her around.

His mouth came crashing against hers. His hands pushed quickly up through her hair, cradling her head in his hands. His mouth was sumptuous, delicious. He kissed her slowly, almost delicately as if he were discovering kissing for the first time. Like he’d been studying her his whole life, reading about her and learning about her from books, and now, he was finally getting to try her out. Grace melted against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and wide shoulders.

They both rose out of their chairs, and Grace had to stand on her tip toes to reach him. His kiss went from soft and gentle, to deep and confident as they stood and their bodies pressed against each other. She felt his arms slide from her hair to her waist, his big hands covering the expanse of her hips.

“I told you to stop apologizing.” He mumbled into her neck as he trailed a line of kisses from her mouth to the slender column of her throat. Grace arched against him.

“I’m sorry.” She said again. He groaned against her, pushing her backward and into the edge of the desk. She could barely grasp the fact that she was standing in Dr. Cumberbatch’s studio, and he was kissing her. Really kissing her. And oh god, he knew how to kiss. He could teach a class on it. She wondered for a second if she should tell him that, but then all her thoughts sort of dissolved as he slipped his hands under the bottom of her sweater.

“I don’t do this.” He pulled back slightly. His lips were flushed, his cheeks as well. She’d pushed her hands through his hair, and it stood in wavy locks across his forehead.

“Neither do I.” She whispered.

“I almost didn’t hire you to be an intern because I thought you were so fucking gorgeous.” He swallowed hard, and Grace felt her insides quiver.

“I…” She couldn’t think.

“How old are you?” He asked, his voice soft but demanding as he searched her face.

“Old enough.” She whispered.

“No, really.”

“24.”

“I’m 14 years older than you.” He groaned. Grace smiled and leaned forward, kissing him and biting his lip gently. He groaned again.

“So you can teach me a few things, Dr. Cumberbatch.” She couldn’t believe she was saying it, but then she didn’t care. Benedict groaned and lifted her up, placing her on the desk.

“Call me Ben.” He said roughly into her ear. Grace smiled.

“Okay, Dr. Cumberbatch.” She whispered and he laughed. Grace opened her legs and invited him to step forward. He did and then reached down, grabbing at the bottom of her sweater. She lifted her arms and helped him pull it off of her. Benedict flung the clothing across the room, and then grabbed both of her hands. He pulled them behind her back, making her arch and push her chest forward and toward him. Grace whimpered softly as he kissed across her shoulders and then down to the swell of her cleavage. She’d worn a push up bra that day, as most of her bras were push up bras. Her breasts rose and fell with her labored breath, and she couldn’t quite focus on the idea that Benedict stood before her.

“Please, let me touch you.” Her voice came out hoarse and needy. Benedict took a small step back, looking at her.

“You told me you wanted me to teach you something, yeah?” He said, his eyes burning into hers. Grace felt her pulse pick up, her heart racing.

“Yes.”

“Then you do what I say. And you don’t get to touch, not just yet.” He gave her a slow, devilish grin. Grace sat up straight, licking her lips. Suddenly, everything in her body ached. It was a deep, excruciating yearning. Every muscle, every fiber, every nerve was on fire.

Benedict stepped away from her, loosening his tie as he did. She just watched him, speechless. He grabbed the chair she’d been sitting in a few minutes earlier, and turned it to face her.

“I…I don’t know if I’m very good at this.” She stammered, watching him as he took off his cardigan. He rolled up his sleeves again, slowly, methodically.

“Get him out of your head, Grace. That’s an order.” He raised an eyebrow at her. His voice was firm but gentle, and Grace wanted to listen to him.

“Okay.” She nodded. Benedict sat down in the chair, his long legs out in front of him, spread wide. She licked her lips, wondering what he wanted her to do. She could see the smooth, lovely skin at the top of his shirt, where he’d undone two buttons. She could see the taut way the material stretched over his chest and torso, and the way his trousers bulged just below his belt. Oh.

“Take off your leggings.” He said firmly, his voice low. Grace stood up quickly, jumping off the desk. It wasn’t strange to hear him talk like this. Sure, the _things_ he was saying were new, but Grace heard him talk like this every day. He was completely in charge of his classroom at the university, and he easily took charge of a room full of scatterbrained interns.

She slipped the waist band down over her hips and thighs and then stepped out of her leggings. She was well aware she stood, in her panties and bra, in front of the most sought after, gorgeous and respected man she’d ever met. She was also very aware that she wasn’t exactly Jessica Rabbit. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but when her foot got momentarily caught on the bottom of her legging, making her hobble for a second, she was pretty sure she broke any illusion of grace and sensuality that he’d had of her. When she looked up, tossing her leggings to the side, she saw humor in his eyes, and he had a hand by his mouth as if trying to hide a smile.

“Don’t laugh!” She said with a chuckle. He held up his hands, and then shook his head.

“No, never.” He grinned. She rushed forward, leaning toward him to grab him and smack him gently, but Benedict caught her hands in his, and he got up out of the chair so quickly she barely had time to react. He took her wrists in his hand again, and held them in front of her.

“No. Touching.” He said, his voice changing from light and silly to deep and serious. Grace swallowed hard and nodded. He raised an eyebrow and then stepped away from her, sinking back into the chair. She reached behind her, bracing herself on the edge of the desk.

Benedict lifted his chin at her.

“Take off your bra.” He ordered. Grace reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. She wasn’t sure if she should be doing it slow, and sexy like she’d seen in the movies. But to be honest, she was so nervous and excited, she just unclasped it, and pulled the straps down quickly, letting it fall to the floor at her feet.

Benedict’s eyes were on her, devouring her, and Grace shifted, fighting the urge to cover herself up. His mouth moved, and then he lifted his eyes to hers. She wanted so badly to rush forward to him, to have him touch her and to touch him, but she didn’t. She knew the rule.

“Panties.” He said. She licked her lips, and then reached down and slowly slipped them down, over her hips and legs.

Grace stood, entirely naked in front of Benedict, the glow from the fireplace playing off her body. She had no idea how this happened. He watched her, sitting fully clothed, his chest rising and falling. He had a hand pressed to his lips, and he looked at her as if he were studying a text. Grace took a step forward and then Benedict’s eyes shot up to her.

“I didn’t say to move.” His voice stopped her in her tracks. Benedict stood up then, all power and control and grace, and Grace wanted to take a step back. She held her arms at her sides, her breathing fast and erratic. He took a step toward her, and reached up, slowly undoing his tie the rest of the way. She licked her lips, watching his big hands work the knot at the top. He slipped it off and then took a step toward her. He brushed by her, and Grace could smell his spicy, musky cologne. He stepped behind her and she watched as he slipped the over her head and then down to her eyes. She shifted, holding her breath.

“Are you okay?” He whispered softly, his voice coming up to the back of her ear. She nodded quickly.

“Yes, Dr. Cumberbatch.” She whispered. She felt him chuckle against her, probably frustrated and amused that she refused to call him Ben. He tightened his tie around her eyes and head.

Grace stood still for a few minutes, unseeing. She could hear him moving, but she didn’t know where he was. Her body stood at attention, her skin was alive, her nipples aching and tender, hardened by the still brisk but slowly warming air.

A few seconds later, she felt a hand, warm against her lower back. She rocked slightly, reacting to the contact. He trailed his fingers across her back, over her hips and then slowly up her stomach. She felt Benedict run his hands over her ribs, his fingertips whisper soft. He brought them up her sides, and then around her breasts. Grace shifted, rolling her head back and whimpering softly. He ran his hands down over the tops of her breasts, and then made slow, aching circles around her nipples. Grace took a faltering step forward, wanting to touch him.

He tutted at her, his hands disappearing from her skin.

“You don’t listen very well.” He chuckled. She smiled and then dropped her arms at her sides. She felt him come close again, and then she felt a hot, wet mouth come down over her nipple. She arched, crying out, and then reached forward, pushing her hands through his thick, wavy hair. She didn’t care. She would collapse if she didn’t hold on to him, and he seemed to recognize this. His hands went to her hips and then her breasts, cupping her and squeezing gently. She grabbed at him, tugging gently on his hair. Benedict groaned, his breath hot against her nipple.

“Oh fuck, don’t do that.” He mumbled. She smiled and tugged again, sending Benedict into another low, carnal groan.

“I want to see you.” She asked, reaching up and touching the blindfold. Benedict took her hand, bring it back down.

“Not yet.” He said and then swiftly, picked her up and sat her on the desk. Grace squeaked, and then laughed. Her laughter turned quickly to soft, whimpering gasps as she felt Benedict step between her thighs, his hands grasping at her bare legs.

“Dr…” She started to say, but her words got caught in her throat. She felt him move, kneeling down between her legs. He brought one leg up to his shoulder, kissing his way up her thigh. Grace leaned back on her arms, boldly aware of the fact that she was bared to him completely. She needed him to touch her.

Benedict moved her legs, and Grace reached forward, scratching her nails through his hair, against his sensitive scalp. Benedict groaned, and she felt it against the core of her. He brought a big hand up to her, touching her. She moaned, arching her hips toward him. He ran a finger over her, teasing, barely touching. She grabbed against him, begging him to relieve her. He pressed a slow, wet kiss to her inner thigh, and then he leaned forward, his mouth coming to contact with the hot center of her. Grace cried out, feeling his tongue make a slow, wide, confident lick against her. She bucked against the desk, and against Benedict.

“Oh…yes…yes.” She whimpered, feeling his tongue move and begin to make gentle, tight circles around her clit. Benedict groaned against her, and it nearly set her off.

“When’s the last time someone’s really made you come, darling?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous. Grace faltered, feeling his breath against her.

“I…” She opened her eyes, then reached up and tore the blindfold off. The sight of Benedict, kneeling between her thighs, his dark curls nestled against her legs, made her nearly orgasm right there on the spot.   He looked up at her, his ice blue eyes, intense and yet somehow still playful.

“I don’t even remember.” She blinked, thankful the low, orange light from the fire.

“I can tell. You’re ready for me and we’ve barely started.” He said, not seeming to care that she’d taken off the blindfold. Grace shivered at his words, and tensed her thighs.

“I’ve been ready for you for…months.” She swallowed. He raised an eyebrow, and sat up a bit straighter, bringing his hand to her mound, covering her with one big palm. She pressed against him, squirming slightly.

“Oh? I thought you were a good girl. You said you didn’t talk about me with the undergrads.” He said, his voice humored. He pressed the flat palm of his hands harder against her, and she arched needily against him.

“I don’t…I don’t talk about you with them.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t mean I don’t think about you on my own though.” She licked her lips. Benedict sat back completely, now his hand dropping. She blinked quickly, wondering why he was stopping.

“What…” She breathed.

“Oh? You think about me when you’re alone?” He asked. She nodded. “When you’re touching yourself?” He licked his lips, which were still wet from where he’d been tasting her. Grace could barely breathe.

“Yes, Doctor.” She nodded. He pressed her lips together for a minute and then put both hands on her knees.

“Touch yourself, now. Show me.” He said, and then he lowered his eyes to her. Grace hesitated for a second, but then ran her hand down her stomach and between her legs. Benedict pressed his cheek against her inner thigh, his soft hair brushing against her knee, as he watched her. Grace spread her knees a bit more, and slowly began touching herself. She closed her eyes for a second, getting lost in the feeling. She could feel his breath against her thigh, his hair tickling her knees, she knew he was watching her every movement, eating it up.

Grace wasn’t sure how she had suddenly turned into this depraved, sex hungry woman, but she was quite enjoying it. No one had ever looked or talked to her like Benedict was. There was something deeply thrilling about it, and about him. He wasn’t just this boring, closed off man. He was any thing but that.

She arched against her hand, feeling Benedict grip her knees a bit harder.

“Grace, if you’re going to come, you better open your eyes and look at me when you do.” His voice was so low, but she was so tuned into him, that she shivered as she felt the vibrations go up and down her thighs. She kept moving her fingers, touching herself, working herself up to near oblivion. Little moans escaped her throat, and she felt her body start to give in to the pleasure.

“Oh, god…” She cried, out feeling her orgasm start to shake through her. She opened her eyes, finding Benedict’s gaze on her. He looked hungry, but also strangely patient as he watched her, fully clothed while she touched herself for him. As she orgasmed, he turned his head, nipping gently at her thighs.

She tilted her head back, breathing roughly as her spasms subsided.

“Mm, not bad. But I’m sure I can do better.” He said, his voice amused. He leaned forward then, and his mouth came down over her again. Grace yelped, and then melted against him. Her flesh was super sensitive, and her thighs still shaking as he ran his tongue up and down her folds, then ran the flat of his tongue against her clit, tasting her in firm, even strokes. She felt her body shaking again, and she couldn’t quite believe the feeling as another orgasm built inside her. She grabbed onto his hand and his head, as she felt his free hand touch her. He slipped a finger, and then two inside her wet, ready opening. He groaned as he felt her, tight and needy, against him.

“Oh fuck, Dr Cumberbatch…” She moaned, feeling him bend his fingers slightly in a “come hither” action, as he moved them in and out of her, hitting spots she didn’t know existed.

“Say my name, Grace.” He said quickly, desperately.

“Ben…Ben…” She said his name breathlessly, achingly. He groaned, and then pressed his tongue against her. He kept his tongue against her clit as he worked his fingers in and out of her. Grace shook against him, feeling her orgasm rush forward out of nowhere. Her legs shook as she bared down on him, her moan coming out loud and shaky. Her thighs pressed around him, gripping him as she shook.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” He pressed kisses to her thighs as he brought her back down. Grace fell back against the desk top, feeling as if all the bones in her body had disintegrated. She looked up, when she felt Benedict stand up, moving off of his knees. She sat up quickly onto her elbows as he stood, his figure impressive against the back lit orange glow of the fire.

It struck her that he was still wearing all his clothes. She sat up then, quickly, before he could protest, and began to hastily unbutton his shirt. Her hands were tingling from her orgasm, and it took her longer than normal to pull the buttons open. She pushed his white dress shirt up and over his broad shoulders, revealing his wide, toned chest that tapered down to a powerful torso.

Grace ran her hands up and down his chest, leaning forward and running her lips and tongue over his skin. She wanted to taste him everywhere. He stepped toward her, and then she reached down and quickly undid his trousers and boxers, pushing them down over his legs.

She sucked in a deep, shaking breath as she took in the sight of him. His erection jutted out in front of him, large, masculine and in a strange way, achingly beautiful. Grace reached forward, taking the long, hot length of him with both hands, running her hands over the velvet soft skin covering hard iron. Benedict groaned, then braced himself on either side of her, grabbing her hips.

He lifted her up, off the desk and set her down on the floor. Grace kept him in her hands, stroking and teasing him. He groaned, leaning forward and taking her mouth in a deep, intimate kiss. She pressed her body against his larger one, feeling his erection press into her stomach. Benedict nipped at her lips, pulling her tongue into her mouth. They both groaned and then he pulled back, taking her by the hips and flipping her around quickly.

There was a sudden urgent, starving quality to him as he pressed his chest against her back. Grace swooned, pressing her ass against his erection. She tilted her head back against him, letting him devour her neck. He reached forward, his longer, big arms covering both hers. He took one of her hands in each of his, and then put them down on the desk in front of them. He leaned into her, kissing her shoulders and back. Grace stayed where she was, bent over the desk, her hands planted firmly.

She felt Benedict move behind her, his strong thigh nudging her legs open wider, which she gladly did. She arched her back, wavering underneath him. He stood up, trailing his hands along her back and down to her hips. He grabbed her hips, his fingers pressing into her, as she felt the plump head of his cock press against her entrance. She moved against him, begging, as he slowly moved into her.

He was quiet for a moment as he moved into her, then buried himself to the hilt. Grace let her head fall to the desk, unable to think or speak. He leaned over her, his mouth coming to her ear as he kissed her neck.

“I’m going to make you come again and I want you to say my name when you do.” He growled into her ear. Grace smiled, knowing he was good on his promise. She arched against him and moved her hips, grinding hard. He groaned, and then grabbed her hips again, standing back up.

They began moving together, his hands guiding her as they did. Grace pressed her forehead against the desk as Benedict thrusted into her, sure and steady. He matched the pace she needed, seeming to know exactly what she needed when she needed it. Grace reached back, grabbing onto his forearms as he pushed into her. She felt her orgasm building. Her body already felt sated and humming with pleasure, but he was doing something different to her now. Something deeper and indescribable. Grace sat up, arching her back as she did.

Benedict wrapped an arm around her, over her shoulder and across her chest, grasping gently onto her breast as he pulled her against his chest. He pressed his mouth against her neck, and then kissed her as he moved. His other hand moved from her hip, up to his mouth. He licked his fingers quickly, and then reach in front of her, down to the v between her legs. His skilled, deft fingers pressed against her clit as he thrusted into her, setting Grace over the edge for the third time that night.

She moaned loudly, her voice coming out in shaking, gasping breaths. He held her firm against his chest, moving both their bodies. She felt the muscles in his arms, the tenseness in his torso.

Grace shook against him, as Benedict wrapped both arms around her hips, one hand still moving against her. Grace arched into him, her head lulling back against him as she orgasmed.

“Benedict, oh god. Ben… “ She breathed, turning her head and kissing him frantically. He groaned, taking her mouth, and the rest of her as well. She vibrated against him, and then he groaned, pushing her gently back down onto her forearms on the desk. He drove into her, his thrusts desperate and void of control. Benedict came hard, his arms coming down rest of the sides of the desk parallel to her. He grabbed onto Grace, cradling her in his arms as he came into her. She gasped, feeling ripples of pleasure run through her body. He groaned, then pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.

“Fuck, Grace.” He murmured into her neck. He braced himself on either side of her, and sat up slowly, not wanting to crush her any longer. He pulled her along with him, taking her in his arms as he did, turning her around. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face to his chest. She could feel his heart, beating fast and hard against her ear. Benedict sank down into the chair, pulling her onto his lap. Grace hid her face in his chest, feeling a blush creep over her. She couldn’t believe that had just happened. It felt like out of some sort of strange, lovely, ridiculous dream.

“I can’t believe we…” She tried to hide her smile, her whole body humming with the after effects of pleasure. Benedict ran a hand down her spine, and across her shoulders.

“Me either…”

“I never would have dreamed…me and Dr. Cumber—“

“No, none of that.” He shushed her, laughing softly. “It’s Ben. It’s Ben from now on.” He whispered, brushing a thumb over her kiss plumped lips. She blushed, kissing his fingertip gently.

“The other interns will talk.” She whispered. He paused, looking down at her flushed, sated face.

“Let them talk. What do they know.” He said with a quick smile, then leaned down and kissed her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
